Christmas Eve
by shortcrust pastry
Summary: Christmas Crossovers contest entry: Hitsugaya Toshiro thought Christmas Eve was a pointless holiday, and no one could change his mind about it. That is, until Hyuuga Hinata came along. Oneshot, HitsuHina, AU


"**CHRISTMAS EVE"  
**_A Hitsugaya-Hinata crossover story  
_FRIGHTYMARE

**Disclaimer: **Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
Bleach © Kubo Tite  
Peppermint Winter © Adam Young, Owl City

Contest entry for Hinata-Shipping's "Christmas Crossovers" inspired by my new favourite Christmas jingle, _Peppermint Winter _by Owl City. Enjoy!

**. . . . .**

Teal eyes of focussed turquoise scanned the airport in search of a familiar figure. Accompanied by fiery-haired Ichigo and Rangiku, Hitsugaya Toshiro weaved expertly through the onslaught of tourists, home-comers and awaiting families as he sought to find his friend. The thick glass windows of the Karakura Town Airport betrayed the harsh outdoor conditions, heaps of glittering white amassed on the sills and fat flakes twinkling like fairy lights as they stuck onto the pane like jellyfish.

Toshiro _favoured_ cold weather. He _preferred_ the winter season. He _enjoyed _the month of December. He _liked _Christmas. But Christmas Eve was simply, utterly and unconditionally intolerable. Scowling at the reminder of the date flashing large in scarlet digital numerals on the projector screen mounted on the wall, Toshiro hunted for the Konoha-to-Karakura five o'clock flight.

"Her plane landed six minutes ago," Rangiku chirped matter-of-factly, clapping her hands together in a decisive fashion. "She should be at the luggage department, then."

"What? Why?" Ichigo questioned snappily. "She's staying for the Christmas holidays, Rangiku. She'll only have a carry-on, at most. Let's just wait in the food court. Rukia and Orihime took all of the sandwiches that Renji made us for our airport stake-out tonight." With a pout, Ichigo folded his arms across his chest and gazed longingly at a passerby in a long overcoat shoving a glazed doughnut into his mouth.

Toshiro narrowed his eyes lazily, the ghost of a smirk hovering on his lips as he began to walk away from the loud pair. "It's not a stake-out; we're just waiting for Hinata. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes more. If you want to go to the food court, then leave already."

Ichigo glanced from Rangiku to Toshiro, weighing his options. Shifting his eyes back and forth in a comically indecisive motion, he dramatically sighed and unfolded his arms, allowing them to droop miserably at his sides. Slumping forward, he groaned, "No, I'll stay. Ugh, for such a short guy, Toshiro is definitely the neediest."

"That's Hitsugaya to you," Toshiro retorted immediately. "And I'm not short. Rukia's short."

Rangiku giggled nervously and prompted Toshiro forward. "Eh, come on … let's not fight. How about we go to the waiting area and wait for Hinata there? After all, that might be the first place she goes looking for us."

"No need," said a familiarly soft voice from behind the trio; eyes wide, Ichigo and Rangiku and Toshiro wheeled around to see Hyuuga Hinata of Konoha. Her cheeks were flushed from the bitter cold, her lavender eyes bright and enthused as ever, her smile as charmingly perfect and cheerful as Toshiro remembered.

"Hinata," he uttered in surprise, a rare smile overtaking his prior frown. "How did you find us?"

"White hair clearly isn't a dominant g-gene," Hinata laughed, breathlessly throwing herself into his arms.

"What about us?" Ichigo grumbled, spreading his arms wide for a hug.

"Ichigo-kun, hi!" Hinata exclaimed excitedly, wrapping her arms briefly around his shoulders before sliding over to embrace Rangiku in turn. "Where's R-Rukia-chan and Orihime-chan?"

"Somewhere else," Toshiro dismissed. He glanced at his Konoha friend from the corner of his eye. She was prettily flustered with the excitement of vacation novelty, head turning from side to side to take in the Karakura Town airport. The industrial, sleek city was definitely a change from her quaint home village of Konoha. "Let's head home, then."

"Where's Hinata-chan staying?" Rangiku wondered, to no one in particular.

"Ano, I'll be at Rukia-chan's for my stay," Hinata informed her jovially. "Could you take me there?"

"After we spend an hour or two at Toshiro's," Ichigo pleaded.

"Hitsugaya," Toshiro corrected reflexively.

Ignoring Toshiro, Ichigo continued, "We're just going to spend Christmas Eve together – the five of us. I already texted Rukia and Orihime; they're on their way to meet us in the airport foyer."

Hinata didn't hesitate. "A-Alright!" she agreed happily, a spring in her step as she skipped ahead of the group. "If Rukia-chan will be there, I guess there's no point in going back to her place just yet!"

"That's the spirit," Rangiku encouraged. "Now if only you could sprinkle some of that on Hitsugaya."

"W-Why?" Hinata inquired curiously, glancing up at her snowy-haired friend in question. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Toshiro snapped darkly.

"Toshiro, for some reason, hates Christmas," Ichigo said helpfully, scoffing a snarky remark under his breath. Toshiro neatly dug an elbow into his pal's ribs and shook his head.

"I don't hate Christmas," Toshiro argued simply. "I just can't stand Christmas Eve."

Hinata looked on the verge of asking for another reason why, but was interrupted when Rukia's voice pierced their conversation with an excited exclamation. "Hinata-chan!"

Rukia stood a half a head shorter than Hinata, and a full head beneath Toshiro. With exaggerated mock anger, she attempted to loom over and glare down at Hinata, hands firmly rooted on her hips as she growled, "Why didn't you text me the minute your plane landed like I told you to in my texts?"

"G-Gomen, Rukia-chan," Hinata giggled, unabashed, "but my phone is in my bag. I haven't checked my t-texts and calls since I boarded in Konoha."

"Hinata!" Orihime squealed, shoving Rukia out of her path to crush Hinata in her vice-like grip of reunion. "You're here! Oh, there are so many places I want to take you; you have to see everything before you leave again! Did you bring your camera? I-"

"We're going," Toshiro said, roughly cutting across Orihime's animated rant. "Let's hurry it up."

"Let's rent a movie on the way; otherwise, there'll be nothing to do at Toshiro's," Ichigo whined, as Rukia took a hold of his elbow and began to lead him out of the airport doors in pursuit of the others.

"Hitsugaya!" Toshiro snapped.

"Whatever." Ichigo melodramatically rolled his eyes. "And I wasn't joking. Make a stop to Blockbuster along the way, Rangiku. If we're lucky, we might still be able to salvage one of the last _Elf _copies or _Love Actually._"

"Firstly," Toshiro snarled, "no films involving, starring or mentioning Will Ferrell will pass so much as my front door, let alone my DVD player. Secondly, the same holds for movies of romance or cheesy sap, and thirdly, _no Christmas Eve movies_!"

Orihime, flustered, giggled nervously. "Whoa, calm it down. What's your problem?"

"Christmas Eve," Rukia, Ichigo and Rangiku muttered simultaneously in response.

With a curt nod finalizing the matter, Toshiro strode ahead, leaving Hinata rather baffled by his behaviour. But nevertheless, she was happy just to finally be in Karakura Town with the potential of spending Christmas with her friends away from home.

**. . . . .**

Hinata could not help but marvel at the neat, careful condition in which Toshiro maintained his home. The lampshades were dusted, the leather of the couches was smooth and unblemished, and the hardwood wasn't sticky in the least.

However, there was no sign of Christmas Eve decorations. He had a tree mounted in the corner by his fireplace and a sprig of holly on the mantle. And yet the tree was bare-naked, devoid of garland or tinsel or ornaments, and the holly was lonely with ribbons and wreaths and mistletoe accompaniments.

Hinata frowned slightly, but Rangiku shot her a warning glance to not press the matter further as she passed by on her way to join the others in the sitting room. Hinata's frown deepened.

Toshiro, as he locked up the front door and turned, was displeased to see his best friend's sudden unhappiness. Hinata was vaguely reminiscent of Momo, he decided. He didn't particularly like to see her frown, or cry, or hurt in any way. However, he was no idiot. He could realize perfectly well by himself that his feelings for Hinata were far stronger than mere friendship.

She knew his favourite songs, and she knew his favourite places. He told her of his fears, and she told him of her dreams. She recounted meaningless stories, but he could listen to her voice for hours on end. He was gruff and rude and sometimes unintentionally coarse, but she was patient enough to wait for his sensitive and kind side to reappear, for it always did, given time, and it was usually she who brought it out again.

He was protective of her; he never wanted to cause her harm or allow it to befall her. He would never forgive himself if he did.

"What's wrong?" he asked apprehensively.

"Why are you so against Christmas E-E-Eve?" Hinata stammered, her brow cocked in apparent confusion as she darted her eyes up to meet his. She tripped over the word _eve, _Toshiro noted, and hoped she wasn't afraid of bringing it up. He wasn't exactly the type to lose control over a pet peeve like the one he held for Christmas Eve.

"Eh, it's not a big deal, Hinata," he assured her, mildly caught off guard. "You know, I don't like it, but it's not like it torments me or anything. I'll survive. Don't worry about it."

"You l-like winter, don't you?"

Toshiro nodded.

"Y-You like December, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"And your birthday was on the t-twentieth, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

" And you like C-Christmas, right?"

"Sure."

"S-So … why -?"

"-don't I like Christmas Eve?" Toshiro smirked. She nodded, and he beckoned for her to follow him as he led the way across to the kitchen. On the refrigerator, he'd pinned a sheet of paper with a bright blue magnet. Sliding the paper into his hands, he offered it to Hinata.

"A-Ano-?"

"It's an essay I wrote," Toshiro said, his smirk widening. "In fifth grade. It's about why I don't like Christmas Eve. Read for yourself."

He eyed her carefully as her eyes scanned the words, widening at points and narrowing at others. Confusion flickered often across her face, flanked by preceding emotions such as disbelief and utter exasperation.

"Toshiro!"

"What?" he replied lazily, challenging her with his teal-green half-lidded eyes.

"Ano … this is the single most stupidest thing I've ever read."

"Single most stupidest?" Toshiro repeated, shoulders shaking silently with a contained laugh. "Your grammar leaves little to be admired, Hinata."

"Never mind my grammar!" she burst, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "Look at your introduction, for example! _Of all the monumental events of December – the peak of the winter season, the falling of snow, the birthday of Hitsugaya Toshiro, the date of Christmas and New Year's Eve, Christmas Eve is the most obnoxiously exaggerated holiday of them all."_

"It is," Toshiro agreed. "The peak of the winter season is monumental, just like the dog days of summer are. The falling of snow is monumental, just like the first bloom of spring. My birthday is monumental, just like anyone else's. Christmas is monumental, just because you're to spend it with the people you love. New Year's Eve is monumental, for being the single last day of the entire year. What's monumental about Christmas Eve?"

Hinata, at a loss for words, merely spluttered in disbelief under her breath.

"I'm right, aren't I? The eve of Christmas is insignificant and meaningless and stupidly celebrated."

"You have a point," Hinata admitted at last, "but y-you're not right, either!"

"Oh? Try and prove me wrong, then," Toshiro challenged, smirking confidently.

"But look at these supporting statements!" Hinata protested, indicating his essay. "Your general argument is that on Christmas Eve, all people do is _drink alcohol and goof off at parties, d-decorate their houses with meaningless strings of lights,_ and _offer dumb words of 'Christmas cheer and joy' to random strangers on the streets._"

"They're fair arguments," Toshiro remarked defensively, to which Hinata sighed in exasperation.

"No! Parties bring people together, and it's _pretty _to decorate our houses with lights and it's not _dumb _to wish others a happy Christmas!"

"I'm not wrong," Toshiro stubbornly insisted, unwavering in his movement.

Hinata paused, the silence wavering only with the frequent absent-minded crinkles of the essay sheet in her hand. Slowly but surely, a sincerely enthusiastic smile crept across her flustered cheeks, from one end to the other, wide and bright. Lavender eyes lit up with the novelty and thrill of a newly anticipated idea as she reattached the essay to its place on the refrigerator.

"I'll prove you wrong, then. I take that challenge," Hinata conceded.

"Fine." Toshiro crossed his arms over his chest, raising amused eyebrows down at his friend.

"Fine," Hinata retorted instantly, smile widening."

"_Fine._ You can try."

"Fine!" Hinata exclaimed, giggling as she turned on her heel and skipped across the kitchen, tightening the buttons on her jacket as she went. "I'll be back in a … h-half hour!" she promised.

A half hour. Toshiro scoffed. That would not be enough time for _anyone _to plan an evening worthy of reversing his opinion on Christmas Eve. Hinata was wasting her time.

**. . . . .**

Toshiro opened his front door in response to the ring of the doorbell. "Hinata?"

"D-Don't tell me you've forgotten about me already!" Hinata pouted. "Are you ready?"

Toshiro chuckled and helped her with her coat. "Nah, I didn't forget. So? Where to first?"

"To the land where all Christmas-Eve-non-believers go," Hinata scoffed. "Of course."

"Of course," Toshiro nodded, his face serious. Hinata giggled at his side and ensnared her hand around his elbow, her blush hidden behind the already-present flush of the cold night chill on her cheeks.

"No. I'm encouraging you to do all of those things you said were meaningless and insignificant about Christmas Eve. It's the only way I'll truly be able to prove you wrong." Hinata stepped into the house and shut the door behind her.

"Well, Rangiku, Ichigo, Orihime and Rukia are all still here. I think they're watching a movie."

"That doesn't matter," Hinata assured him dismissively. "See? T-This just proves the general point of your feelings that I'm targeting is that you have a tendency to overlook the deeper meaning of things."

"Deeper meaning? Partying means partying; that's all there is to it, Hinata," Toshiro sighed, spreading his arms wide. "It's boring and suffocating and wild and uncontrollably stupid."

Hinata paused in her tracks, hand hovering on the wall behind Toshiro's family room. Her fingers traced the wallpaper until she let her arm fall limp at her side, and without turning around, asked, "What's – what's your definition of fun, T-Toshiro-kun?"

Toshiro spent a fraction of his reaction time in searching her voice for an angry or disappointed tone, but he was met with nothing but sheer curiosity. Running a hand through his white hair, Toshiro shrugged and said nonchalantly, "I don't know … I guess just not partying? The things partiers do don't appeal to me."

"What sort of things?" Hinata inquired instantaneously, an invisible hook dragging a corner of her mouth down dubiously.

"Drink alcohol and play dumb games and get goofy?"

"Hm." Hinata's frown lifted into a small, subtle smile and she continued slowly down the hall, turning into Toshiro's family room. From the other side of the corridor, Toshiro could hear the greetings she was met with as she entered.

He wondered, briefly, what she was planning. She'd begun to speak in a low voice to the others; he knew because the volume of the movie was near muted and all that could be heard by his distanced ears were mumbles. _I'll give them ten more seconds_, he reasoned with himself.

With a semi-amused twitch of the lips, Toshiro counted to ten in his mind and, as the voice in his head reached the final number, he began to drag his feet across his floorboards down to the entrance of his family room.

He heard the bustle before he saw it. When his turquoise eyes beheld the frantic scene before him, Toshiro had to fight the urge to laugh, something he hadn't felt himself do in a while. It must be the presence of Hinata. She could uplift any atmosphere in mere minutes.

Ichigo and Rangiku were struggling to turn the movie off. Orihime and Rukia had rushed off to God-knew-where in his home, and Hinata walked peacefully out of the family room, brushing his shoulder on her way out. Toshiro debated whether or not to follow her, but then decided against it when he recognized Orihime's shriek of surprise accompany an unpleasant crash.

Hurrying towards the noise, he discovered a riot of events. Rukia was shouting into the phone and Orihime was staring at a mess of dropped objects on the kitchen floor with wide eyes. She snapped her gaze up, startled at his presence, and more than a little apologetic.

Before any sound could escape her open lips, Toshiro raised his hands with a sigh. "Don't bother," he groaned. He didn't feel like hearing or responding to an apology at the moment. "Just pick it all up and put it back, and pray to the heavens that nothing is damaged severely enough for me to demand payment."

With a quirk of his eyebrow directed at Orihime's frightened expression, he turned on his heel and bumped into Hinata.

"Oh! Toshiro-kun!"

"What's going on?" Toshiro observed from his peripheral vision, Ichigo and Rangiku hurrying down to his basement. "Wha – where are those two going? Who is Rukia talking to? What's going on, Hinata?"

"Just shut up," she informed him cheerfully. "Everything's going to be fine."

"No, it's not. For one thing, Rangiku-"

"Do you trust me?" Hinata demanded out of the blue, eyes set.

Taken aback, Toshiro rolled onto the heels of his feet with widened eyes, not bothering to avert them. "Uh, yeah. Of course."

Hinata, nodding contentedly, grazed by and pointedly ignored him for the duration of a following twenty minutes. In which Toshiro made to keep count of all that went on, including one mysterious doorbell delivery, one sneaky mission assigned to Ichigo and Rangiku – at which both failed miserably at, but Toshiro pretended not to notice their slip-ups – and a whole ton of panicking and shrieking from both Rukia and Orihime.

By the time Hinata and the others collapsed onto the sofas back in his family room once again, Toshiro was mentally exhausted and the others were physically drained. He could see it in the way they dragged their feet, and the way their eyelids were heavier than before, and the way they prolonged their words and laughed wearily and swung their arms in fatigue.

Toshiro wanted to ask what they were doing, but he chose not to. Instead, he decided to merely join them as subtly as he could, observing them as he did.

He slid onto the floor where the rest of them were, and the moment he did, Hinata rushed into the kitchen and vanished for quite some time. At some interval in her absence, she called for the girls' help, and all but Rangiku leapt to her rescue. The girls all returned minutes after with paper plates carrying slices of fancy cake.

Ichigo cheered faintly, slightly too tired to create any sound any louder, as Rukia shoved a plate into his hands. Toshiro was daintily handed his share by Hinata, who smiled as she picked up her fork and delved into her own.

He scrutinized the dessert, examining the delicacy of the design, the intricate details and small purple roses. The cream was thick and smooth, ivory in colour and adorned with dark berries. He bracingly dipped his fork down the tip of the cake and inserted a tentative sample into his mouth.

He enjoyed the taste. It was rather sweet, though mellow in flavour. He returned Hinata's smile as she glanced over; the pair of them were avoiding participation in the conversation that ensued the arrival of cake.

Much livelier now everyone seemed. Ichigo was rattling off inappropriate jokes, much to Rukia's chagrin, Orihime's distaste and Rangiku's enjoyment. Hinata tripped off again, and Toshiro was left to endure the goofiness of the only other male present.

"-the difference between peanut butter and jam?" Ichigo questioned in between fits of laughter.

Orihime bit her lip, her hand freezing mid-movement as she attempted to lift her fork to her mouth. "Huh? Is this a dirty joke? Because the difference is pretty obvious, isn't it? One's red, one's golden, one's smooth and chunky, and one's-"

"No, it's dirty," Ichigo assured her.

As the other girls babbled off their random guesses, Hinata returned, arms full of champagne bottles. Toshiro glanced up, surprised. Those were the antique bottles of the high-class stuff his father and mother had had since he was born, stored in the basement. He hadn't touched them, ever. He was convinced that champagne was a drink for the rich and successful, and that the bottles must have been a struggle for his parents to even get a hand on.

His thoughts had only been self-confirmed when Hinata had announced that the Hyuugas drank champagne and white wine at their ceremonies and parties all the time. The Hyuugas were rich. _And _successful.

But Ichigo, Rangiku, Rukia and Orihime seemed to think nothing of it, as they began to distribute thin, delicate glasses and share the bottles. He almost stopped them, but he was thrust a half-full glass of shimmering golden liquid and made to take a sip.

The evening flew by. Toshiro was barely aware of time passing by. So much was done – board games were brought out, hot cocoa was made, mixed with their wine, tried with their snacks, and gingerbread was made, music was blasted, karaoke was attempted, marshmallows were toasted around a fire, _Family Guy _was played in the background by popular demand and many, _many _pictures were taken and retaken.

Toshiro looked up at the clock, shocked to find the night was still rather young. Ichigo and Rangiku were still rather heated from their alcohol, goofing off and stumbling around and leaning on each other in fits of uncontrollable laughter. Rukia and Orihime were in giggles, playing a seemingly tame round of Texas Hold 'Em by their own rules.

Toshiro and Hinata sat leaning against the sofa, their champagne glasses in hand and their mouths smeared with eighth helpings of an enormous cake. They murmured nothings and happy, needless thoughts to one another.

And when Toshiro was met with silence, he finally asked, "What was the point of this, Hinata?"

She didn't hesitate. "First on your list was a party where people drank alcohol and goofed off, right? Was this so bad?"

Toshiro raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. "…N-No," he said truthfully. "No, it honestly wasn't."

"A party, Toshiro-kun…" she licked her fork one last time before setting it down, "doesn't have to be a wild riot of drunk teenagers and dirty dancing. It can just be a few f-friends, having fun."

Toshiro froze. Something had returned to him: something she had said earlier._ You have a tendency to overlook the deeper meaning of things._ Parties weren't shallow, stupid, déclassé affairs; well, not when they were parties with his best friends. He grinned slowly as he looked around at said best friends. "I see that now … thanks."

Hinata smiled, "I'm glad," and excused herself quickly for another moment. He hoped, for a brief second, that she hadn't wasted too much energy and thought into attempting to reform his idea of Christmas Eve. If he could, he'd persuade her that her attempts were futile and pointless, for she stuck to a decision when she made it. Something, he'd been told, that she'd been taught by Uzumaki Naruto.

She returned with a Tupperware container of amanatto treats, and placed it between the two of them, quietly indicating that they could share the contents.

He didn't need to be asked twice. Nodding gratefully, he eagerly brought one of the treats to his mouth. Hinata was renowned for her sophistication and refined breeding in Konoha as daughter of the Hyuugas, and therefore was raised to be a proper lady – which meant hard training and work to learn the mechanisms of cooking above all. Toshiro savoured the syrupy taste of the abundant amanatto heap one by one.

When the sweetness of the amanatto became too much, he tore open his bouquet and attempted to compensate his swelling tongue with a sour watermelon candy. Toshiro shared his treats with Hinata.

As they ate, they conversed. What began as idle chitchat evolved into a heartfelt and insightful discussion, and Toshiro once again found himself inwardly marvelling at the bond he shared with Hinata. Was it normal, for best friends to be … like this?

**. . . . .**

Toshiro flicked his white hair and glanced up, "So what now?"

"I want to show you something. I did it before I came back."

Toshiro looked confused.

"When I left b-before the party?" Hinata said helpfully. "I was doing something."

"Ah." Comprehension dawned. "So we're going somewhere then?"

"Just around to the front of your house."

"Why can't we just walk out the front door?" he asked with a restrained groan.

"Because," Hinata insisted. "Then, it wouldn't be as _thrilling_." She ignored Toshiro's roll of the eyes as she ensnared her hand around his elbow and dragged him out the back door, disregarding the cold and the fact that neither was garbed in warm winter-wear.

Toshiro noticed her shiver as they rounded the corner of his block and began to make a loop back to the front of his house. He thought this was rather pointless, but she seemed adamant as always. Her trembling hands were unnerving him. He slid an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm bracingly.

"You're so stupid," he told her fondly.

She smiled through chattering teeth. "Just a bit away, now. I'll be fine. This is about you, anyway."

The walk back home took less than three minutes overall, and soon enough, Toshiro and Hinata were standing on the corner of his street. As they began their walk precariously down to the house on the icy sidewalk, Toshiro's attention was diverted and he nearly slipped.

"W-Watch it!" Hinata exclaimed cheerfully, a steadying hand flying out.

"I'm fine," Toshiro said quietly, brushing her fingers from his shoulder and regaining his composure. "Is that what I think it is?"

Glaring into the near distance, Toshiro could distinguish the hazy outline of a dozen or so silhouettes grouped together on the sidewalk, standing directly in front of Matsumoto's car. This had to ultimately mean, of course, that they were standing directly outside of his house.

"That depends," Hinata smiled sheepishly. "What – what do you think it is?"

"Why are they outside my house?" Toshiro demanded, scowling as he quickened his pace. Hinata, at his side, had trouble keeping up. "They had better not be carolling. This isn't funny, Hinata. I _hate _carollers."

At his warning tone, Hinata didn't flinch; instead, she relaxed and giggled. "Oh, lighten up. Go see for yourself. I'll catch up."

"Why are they at my house?" Toshiro repeated sternly. "Hinata, I'm not moving another step until you tell me why, _now_."

Hinata refrained from rolling her eyes and crossed two fingers behind her back. "Because … your door caught fire?"

Toshiro, on edge, was unable to catch the lie and could only concentrate on the undeniable glow emanating from his home, mistaking it for flames. Heeding Hinata's prompts, he broke into a run down the street, ignoring the way his shoes skidded and slid across the ice.

When he arrived at his door, however, he was taken by utter surprise. He'd been so completely _ignorant _to actually believe his door was on fire! Wouldn't Rangiku, Rukia, Orihime or Ichigo have made any means to contact him?

Feeling stupid, yet a hundred times lighter than he had a moment ago, Toshiro stared up at his home in wonder and disbelief. His house had been wrapped with strings and ropes and cords, all glowing like fireflies in the night.

Upon closer inspection, Toshiro discerned them not to be ordinary Christmas lights. The crowd parted in awed silence as he approached his house and peered up at the decorations. They were small note cards of ivory stationery pinned at different intervals of the Christmas lights so that red, green, blue and yellow beams illuminated the words of the cards from behind.

_You're amazing. You're an angel. You're my best friend. You're brilliant. You're original. You're my favourite. You're special. You're different. You're a miracle. _The list went on.

Toshiro was only dimly aware of a presence that joined him at his side, but he knew instantly who it was. "Did you do this?" he asked, far too astounded to mask his tone with his trademark indifference.

Hinata nodded slowly, three times, her face serious.

Toshiro's lips hooked upward into a small smirk. Decorating houses with lights came second on his list of the 'insignificant and meaningless.' "So?" he asked expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Where's number three? _Offer dumb words of Christmas cheer and joy to random strangers on the streets. _Don't tell me we're actually going to do that."

"We're not," Hinata assured him. "I'm going to do something e-else."

"Oh?" Toshiro glanced up, mildly confused, as Hinata took a deep breath to calm herself. Toshiro could see her cheeks were red from the chill, but her eyes were cast downward and her breathing was unsteady, so he wondered if she really was blushing.

Hinata then proceeded to warily climb onto the hood of Matsumoto's car, ignoring the stares of the curious townspeople as she did so. Toshiro opened his mouth to ask, but he closed it as Hinata nervously managed to balance a stance on the car's roof.

"What are you doing?" Toshiro asked simply, smirking a slightly sarcastic smirk as he watched his best friend's hands shake with amusement.

"W-What do you think I'm doing?" Hinata retorted. "I'm offering my dumb words to you."

Toshiro's smirk widened. "Fine. Bring the fire, Hinata."

With his encouragement, her bravery seemed to sink back within her. She swallowed visibly and scanned the group of awaiting faces below. She hadn't imagined she would attract so many strangers with the Christmas lights; she had only expected a few passersby.

"Okay," Hinata whispered, exhaling shakily. "T-Hitsugaya Toshiro, I-I'm standing on this car with the w-words that I've been dying to say all year but I couldn't. I couldn't, because now is the only time to do it. I-It's Christmas Eve, and maybe you're never going t-to see the magic behind it. Or maybe you already have?"

Toshiro's smirk burst into a full-blown grin and he shook his head slowly. "Nope. Try harder, Hinata."

With a shuddery laugh, she continued, "Ano, well, the words I'm looking for are certainly d-dumb, like you said, but they're all I have right now. And I'm s-scared to know how things are going to b-be after they've been heard…"

Toshiro couldn't help but wonder what on earth his best friend was speaking of. By _dumb words_, he'd meant _'Merry Christmas' _and _'Happy holidays_'. How could such words change anything? What part of the outcome could Hinata possibly have to anticipate with fear or uncertainty?

"You're T-Hitsugaya Toshiro and you're a truly amazing person and how you came t-to be a friend with me is a q-question I ask myself everyday, over and over again, b-because I don't deserve to have someone like you and w-we both know it."

Toshiro's eyes narrowed. What was she talking about? Glancing shiftily around, he noticed that several of the onlookers were nodding their heads with approval and exchanging murmurs. They didn't understand a thing. If they honestly knew the situation, they would be able to see that it was he who didn't deserve Hinata; not the other way around.

Hinata's hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably by now. She could hardly believe that the fear of speaking out was actually overriding her fear of slipping and falling. Looking at everything but Toshiro, she went on, "And there's something you should know. I really need to tell you – and tell you _now_, before – well, b-before I chicken out again."

Toshiro struggled to recall a time when Hinata had ever looked as though there had ever been something she'd been holding back or trying to say, but he couldn't single out a distinct memory. She was always that way anyhow: never being able to spit it all out completely, always with a stutter or a pause or reconsideration.

Her shoulders heaved in a deep breath, or an inaudible sigh. She said simply, her arms dropping dead at her sides, "I love you."

Toshiro froze. There were several murmurs and whispers among the bystanders and Hinata looked on the verge of tears.

"D-Do you l-love m-me … too?"

Toshiro didn't know what to say. At a loss for words, he merely spread his arms wide and frowned in utter shock and confusion, managing a slight shrug. Hinata's eyelids dropped, hiding the upper half of her large lavender eyes. A curtain of dark hair shielded her face from his view as she stepped carefully down to the ground and swept by him, partially hitting him with her shoulder on her way.

Toshiro, stunned, was joined by Ichigo and Rangiku and Rukia and Orihime several minutes later. He was still staring at the car roof where Hinata had been moments before. The crowd had not dispersed; in fact, they were more on edge than ever, watching him intently and with apprehension, attempting to dissect his unfathomable expression.

Ichigo clapped him on the back reassuringly and Rangiku smiled cheerfully. "You'll be okay, right?"

Toshiro nodded dumbly, not moving. His eyes remained fixed where they were, even when Rukia waved a cautious hand in front of his face. "Uh, Toshiro? What happened?"

Toshiro closed his eyes. "Nothing." With a sigh, he half-turned to go back inside the house, but Orihime's following question stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What happened to Hinata-chan?"

Startled, Toshiro looked up. She'd disappeared entirely. He had to find her. "Just go inside!" he told the rest of them. "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

Rangiku opened her mouth to protest, but Rukia led her inside. Ichigo was the last to leave him, sending him one last nod before vanishing behind the door. Toshiro watched his friend close the door of his home without a look back, but his eyes were soon drawn to something else completely.

The lights.

Hinata's lights.

Slowly, he trudged through the snow in his yard until he was directly beneath the roof. He walked the perimeter of his house, reading every light-up note, one by one. Now, each and every one seemed to have something else – a deeper meaning.

"I'm so stupid," he muttered to himself. "I always overlook those deeper meanings, don't I?"

_You're my favourite. You're a miracle. You're my best friend. _They all seemed to say something entirely different now, each of them relaying a different message than they had earlier that night.

And it wasn't until he read the last of the notes, at the very corner of the rooftop – _You are my life – _that he was struck with an epiphany so strong it felt like a lightning bolt. She was _his _life, too. All the time he'd been with his friends in Karakura Town, he'd been thinking of her, waiting for her and counting down the days until the holidays when she had been scheduled to visit.

He scanned the news and papers and Internet for any updates on Konoha happenings or the Hyuugas whenever he could, sometimes so desperate for any connection to her that he would even consider sacrificing his only annual leave from work to visit her in Konoha.

He loved her.

He cared for her.

He'd been waiting for her.

He hadn't known it all this time.

He was in love with her.

Her.

With a small, "Huh," of realization, Toshiro felt a slow, stupid grin stretch across his face. When he whirled around, beaming, Toshiro saw the empty space in front of him and his heart jolted in his chest.

She was gone.

He had to find her. He sprinted as hard as he could down the street, occasionally gliding along the ice dangerously, but he didn't care. His safety was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He had no idea where she might be, but he hoped she hadn't reached home yet. And he was quite sure that was where she was headed, too: didn't all girls head home after devastating events? To cry and sob into their pillows about the ends of their worlds and stuff their faces with ice cream and conduct three-way telephone calls with their two best friends and watch _A Cinderella Story _and scream at Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff just for achieving a fairy-tale ending while they had been forced to the edge of social humiliation?

She had been gone for six minutes.

Toshiro ignored the chill of winter stinging his face as he ran against the wind, feeling a nostalgic twinge. He'd seen _A Cinderella Story _on Rangiku's command on her previous birthday. He'd been told the story of the Cinderella folk tale by his mother since he was a young boy. Of course he'd frown and turn up his face at the sappy love story, but now he understood.

A boy chasing a girl. How strange. How corny, how stupid, how irrational, how cheesy and how utterly un-Toshiro-like.

But if there was one thing Toshiro was dead sure of by now, it was that Hyuuga Hinata was the exception and reasoning behind everything he did.

**. . . . .**

Hinata didn't know where she was headed. She knew that her heart felt tight in her chest, suffocating her from within. She could feel the squeeze of the merciless fist gripping her insides, twisting them painfully. She couldn't help the frown that tugged at the corners of her lips and the unhappy flush that adorned her cheeks as she walked.

She had been walking for seven minutes now.

Her boots made little sound against the snow. Perhaps it was a sign. She could walk into anyone's life, but no one really saw her, heard her. She never left footprints, impressions; she was as invisible to Toshiro as she had been to Naruto.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she failed to hear the loud crunching of steps approaching rapidly from behind, in contrast to her own soft footfalls.

Eight minutes now.

Hinata quickened her pace subconsciously, anxious to find refuge under a warm roof where no eyes would be able to see her. She couldn't explain the feeling that everyone on this street was staring at her, but how could they – being at least a third of a kilometre away from Toshiro's – possibly have seen what she had done and heard what she had said?

Little did she know that they were staring at her because a certain white-haired boy was racing up the sidewalk with eyes only for her.

Just because she had not heard his footsteps didn't mean she could not hear the voice that followed them.

"Hinata!"

She whipped around without thinking. Recognition struck her like lightning directly afterwards, and she paled at the sound of his voice. So she hurried to cast her eyes down, refusing to look at him, and instead followed the movement of his feet as they neared.

Shoes kicked away at the snow in his path as he ran, brushing up enormous dusty storms of white, icy powder. She watched his feet swerve in a sudden turn, and instead of coming to her, he dashed straight up to a parked car, bounding off of the back end and leaping onto the roof with skill and precision.

As he toppled slightly for balance, Hinata chanced to raise her eyes.

Frost had made his face flustered. His hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his sides. His eyes were searching her face. For what, she knew not. Come to think of it, she could think of no conceivable reason why he was even standing on a car's rooftop reminiscent of herself.

And then he spoke, and she was forced to tear her mind from its confusion to concentrate on his face.

"Ten minutes ago, about a block away, you stood on a car, just like this, and looked down at me, standing right in front of you just like you right now," Toshiro said aloud, slightly panting.

He was exhausted, Hinata could see that. But driven nevertheless, just like how he'd always been.

"You told me you loved me."

He looked at her, scanning her expression for any hint of a confirmation. So she nodded without a trace of uncertainty, doing her best not to glance sideways at the spectators who were gaping, wide-eyed, at the peculiarly awestruck girl and the boy on the car.

"And you asked me if I loved you."

Again she nodded, wondering where on earth he was going with this.

"Well, I don't just love you, Hinata," he declared.

Her mind registered all but the fourth word in the space of the three seconds that followed after he spoke. _Well, I don't love you, Hinata. _Just like in her nightmares – no, rather; just like in the dreams that went miraculously well until the Toshiro in her dream uttered those words.

But then it clicked. Before she could make much of it in her mind, however, more words came out of his mouth.

"I need you."

Her lip started to quiver. Her hands were beginning to shake again. He hopped down from the car, onto the small patch of sidewalk that had moments ago stood between them, but now served as the ground he stood on. Their close proximity didn't bother her in the least.

She could feel the warmth of his breath as he muttered words none of the bystanders would be able to hear.

"I'm an honest guy." He waited for her to nod and smile, which she always did whenever he said something blunt and obvious. She did. "So believe me," he pleaded quietly, "when I say I don't just love you. I'm in love with you."

Hinata's mind was completely blank. So blank, in fact, that she couldn't even find it in her to focus on what he had just said. All she knew was that he was here, in front of her, and smiling, and his eyes were closed, and he was leaning towards her.

And so, as cold lips met cold lips and his hands gripped her shoulders and hers clung onto the open pockets of his coat and her knees went weak and she blushed against his face, it didn't bother her a bit that her clear, empty mind hadn't heard exactly what he'd said. It didn't bother her that Naruto was half a world away and was no longer here to make her cheeks flare when he laughed at her stutter or clapped her on the back or kissed her on the cheek.

Because Hitsugaya Toshiro was right in front of her and his was the best kiss she had ever felt.

**. . . . .**

Toshiro, on the other hand, now understood what Hinata had been trying to show him about Christmas Eve all night. His opinion about the holiday had completely turned around.

If Christmas is to spend with those you love,

Christmas Eve is to find out just who those people are,

so you don't have to spend the tomorrow alone.

* * *

"_This peppermint winter is so sugar-sweet,  
I don't need to taste to believe  
What's December without Christmas Eve?"  
_- Adam Young, Owl City

**A/N: **That was long ... haha, hope I win!


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